The Little Church Girl
by AimeeML
Summary: Ariel is a junior in high school. She's the youngest of 5 daughters in a conservative, Christian family. Ariel's parents always encouraged her to sing, as long as she sang Christian music. But after Ariel finds out that her recently deceased mother had a wild phase in her youth, Ariel longs to be a rock star. Even if it means signing a label with the infamous Ursula Major.


**Chapter 1**

"My mom died exactly a year ago," Ariel said.

The school bell was two minutes short of ringing. Ariel came through "Door E" one minute ago. And Sara Flounder had been standing in front of her locker for thirty seconds, thinking about opening it, while munching on a raspberry Milano cookie.

"Yah, I was just thinking about that this morning," said Flounder.

"It's weird."

"Sure is." Flounder offered Ariel a cookie. "Want one?"

"Duh."

Somehow, Flounder always knew what to say to Ariel. Never a "That's horrible." Or an "It's okay to cry." Or a Heaven forbid "I'm praying for you." Other people wanted to hear those things, but Ariel had always been different. That's why she and Flounder became best friends during recess so many years ago.

"So I have a question for you," Flounder said, opening her locker. "Yesterday, while I was doing the laundry, I found two condoms in the pocket of my brother's jeans."

Ariel snorted. Flounder's brother was almost as awkward as Flounder and fifty times more unattractive. There was no way he was getting any.

"I went into his room and I found a bunch more. Want me to steal them for you? Thought I'd ask first."

"Flounder, I can always use more condoms."

Flounder took two notebooks out of her locker and tossed a pill into her mouth. "I guess I thought you were almost done collecting.

"Nah," Ariel said. "Decided to make it bigger. Come look at my new design."

For the past several days, Ariel couldn't open her locker without its contents spilling onto the floor: graded tests, old magazines, candy wrappers. And many, many condoms. The art project was only in its infancy-supplies and a sketch of a high school made out of condoms, to symbolize the need for better sex education. So far, Flounder's the only one who gets it.

"I kinda want to add a school bus or two. What do you think?"

"Yah, that'd be cool."

The bell rang.

"Did you tell your dad that your piece is about Jesus?" Flounder asked.

"He doesn't know about the junior art fair," Ariel said. "But I'm waiting for Ariana to ask about it. Then I'm going to have to make some shit up." Flounder nodded. She veered left while Ariel was about to turn right.

"Flounder, where are you going?"

"Bathroom…"

"You're not skipping math again." Flounder chewed on the cuff of her sweatshirt. "Mr. Shirk can't hurt you," Ariel said.

"Yah, Ariel. He can. He hurts me every day."

"I'm sorry. I just don't want you to fail. You were fine last week."

"I don't know why. I don't know what happened." Ariel watched as Flounder's already vibrating legs vibrated faster.

"C'mon, Flounder. Are you going to the tackle the Shirk today? Or are you going to be a guppy?" Like Ariel, Flounder didn't appreciate pity. Most of Flounder's classmates knew her as that weird, tiny girl with the crippling anxiety disorder. But Ariel just saw her as weird, in the best way possible.

Flounder took a deep breath. "I'll defeat the Shirk. But I'm going to throw up first."

"Kay. I'll wait outside the bathroom."

There's nothing exciting about sines and cosines. A packet of problems in place of a long lecture from Shirk was good news for Flounder. But Ariel didn't have the attention span for paper work. So of course, when she heard a slight buzz come from her cell phone, she needed to take a look.

The text read: "Remember 2 cum rite home 2day. Rehearsal. –luv Mrs S." Mrs. Sebastian was the kind of adult who referred to texts as "emails." She didn't understand that it's not necessary to end every text with a signature. She didn't know that nobody over the age of 12 substitutes "u" for "you" or "2 for "two." But it was her nanny's choice of the word "cum" that expelled Ariel's laughter.

Mr. Shirk looked up from his desk. "Something funny, Miss Trier?"

"No…"

Mr. Shirk walked over to Ariel opened his chubby palm in front of her face. She tried to look away, like she didn't notice what he was asking of her. But she knew it was too late.

"Your phone, Miss Trier. It's mine now." Ariel dropped her phone in Mr. Shirk's hand. He crouched down and thrust his face toward Ariel. Ariel didn't dare look over at Flounder. "This is the second time this semester. The next time, you get detention. Is that clear, _Ginger_?"

Ariel starred at Mr. Shirk's head. So bald it shined like a reflection of the full moon on the sea. She couldn't help herself. "You wish you had my hair."

A chorus of Ariel's classmates sang, "Ooooooo!"

The Shirk wasn't quiet anymore. "Get _out_ of my classroom!"

Ariel smiled. "Gladly."

Yah, Flounder was crying.


End file.
